


Vasocongestion

by leiascully



Category: Elementary (TV)
Genre: Cockblocking, Gen, Masturbation, Sexual Frustration
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-06-22
Updated: 2013-06-22
Packaged: 2017-12-15 20:09:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 881
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/853556
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/leiascully/pseuds/leiascully
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Joan Watson is extremely satisfied in almost every way with her new job.  Almost every way.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Vasocongestion

**Author's Note:**

> Timeline: after Joan ceases to be Sherlock's sober companion  
> A/N: Oh dear, this is rather silly.   
> Disclaimer: _Elementary_ and all related characters are property of Robert Doherty, Hill of Beans Productions, and CBS. No profit is made from this work and no infringement is intended.

Joan Watson is extremely satisfied in almost every way with her new job. She enjoys being Sherlock's assistant or apprentice or associate or whatever he wants to call her today. She finds the work emotionally engaging and intellectually stimulating. She likes Sherlock's brownstone - it isn't as comfortable as her apartment was, but at least nobody's filmed any pornography in her room. Or maybe they have, but she isn't aware of it, and strangely, that's good enough. Ignorance may be bliss, though Sherlock would disagree. 

No, the only way in which Joan is unsatisfied with the turn her life has taken is sexually. She's between partners at the moment, which normally isn't a problem. In fact, given her living situation, it's probably for the best. Sherlock probably wouldn't care, but that doesn't mean he wouldn't kill a mood by bursting in at the least opportune moment, hot on the scent of a case. That's the problem with Joan's usual methods of obtaining sexual release as well: her door doesn't have a lock, and if it did, she's certain that Sherlock could and would pick it if he felt that there were more pressing needs.

She can admit that he's usually not wrong. When he drags her out of the house to the scene of the crime or the next interrogation, she recognizes that his hunches and deductions are important and frequently time-restricted. They really do need to go _right then_. He really does work better with her at his side. She really is learning an astounding amount about what exactly he does and how he does it. 

That doesn't change the fact that she really, really needs to get off.

She's not interested in meeting someone - she's got enough going on in her life right now, and the friends she already has don't even understand what she's doing with Sherlock. Neither is she interested in hiring someone. That might work for Sherlock, but her needs aren't quite as particular as his. Besides, she's a doctor, or she was. She can never unsee the dramatic presentation of symptoms of some of the STIs. Logically, she understands that sex workers have opportunities to get tested on a regular basis; realistically, she knows that it's a pain in the ass. 

Anyway, she has plenty of practice and plenty of props. She's just waiting for the opportune moment. Even when Sherlock leaves the house, she's never sure he's not going to come walking right back in while she's _in medias res_. As perceptive as he is, she's also not sure he wouldn't be able to tell if she did manage to slip in an orgasm or two on the sly. She's found that the physical tells of arousal aren't necessarily subtle when she's wearing them. She isn't always quiet about it either. One of her exes described her as "unrestrained", which she wasn't sure was meant kindly. But she doesn't care about being loud, and really, she wouldn't care about any of it except that it's Sherlock, and she just _does_.

It's funny, because he's so nonchalant about anything having to do with bodies. She could wash her entire collection of sex toys and leave them in his bathroom and he'd just go about his business, with a minor tangent to discuss brands of commercial water-based lubricant and their varied effectiveness. Maybe it's because they've shared so much that she wants to keep this one last thing private. Or maybe it's just because he might not walk right back out again if he walked in on her masturbating. Worst of all, he might offer her advice on her technique. He hasn't refrained from commenting on anything else she does.

She's making tea one morning, slamming things around in the kitchen. She'd thought Sherlock was up, so she'd rolled out of bed after a very nice but ultimately unsatisfying dream in which she was being seduced by one of the extremely handsome actors from the movie she watched last week. But he hadn't been awake at all, and then she didn't want to go back to bed, so she lets the kettle squeal and slaps her cup down on the counter. When Sherlock comes in, she scowls at him over her mug. 

"Good morning, Watson," he says, yawning and scrubbing a hand through his hair. 

"Morning," she says shortly, glaring at the front page of the newspaper. 

"I have a little gift for you," he says, pulling something out of the pocket of what he insists on calling his dressing gown. "Apropos of nothing in particular."

She holds out her hand impatiently. He puts a little bundle into it. She shakes the bundle and watches it unfurl.

"A tie," she says. 

"For the door," he says in his helpful voice, pointing at the tie.

"For the door," she repeats, her tone flat. "What am I going to do with...oh."

"Incidentally, I'll be leaving shortly on an errand that will take me out of the house all day, so," he says, and smiles. "Shall we reconvene at dinner?"

"That sounds perfect," she tells him. 

He smiles and wanders off whistling. Joan presses her knees together in delicious anticipation and takes her time finishing her tea, waiting for the particular click the front door makes as it closes.


End file.
